Brothers
by Isalen
Summary: This is a continuation of the story 'Brothers' by Charliethemusketeerian. 'The four musketeers think they are on a simple mission and are laughing in the forest when they are unexpectedly ambushed. Who will make it out alive' A slightly edited version of the summary, there will still be quite a bit of hurt/comfort.
1. Chapter 1

They rode through the forest valley on horseback, soft crunching of leaves underfoot and birdsong cascading through the branches in a river of sweet music.

"Ah... how I love the placid song of birds. Seems to brighten up every mission." Aramis said dreamily, gazing around them.

He received a puzzled stare from Porthos and d'Artagnan, who were riding next to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Couldn't be better! What makes you say that? I am simply appreciating the wonders of nature" He commented with a pleased smile.

"Right" Porthos turned back to the path ahead of them. A rustling came from the trees above them and they saw a red squirrel perched precariously on a branch. Aramis went to look up just as an acorn came flying from the squirrel and hit him in the eye.

Porthos immediately burst out laughing, his rumbling laughter echoing through the forest.

"How's that for a beauty of nature?" Porthos exclaimed under his laughter

The corners of Athos' mouth twitched; the closest he would ever come to smiling, but only a concerned glance rose onto d'Artagnan's face as he saw how red his eye was underneath his cupped hand.

"Is his eye alright Athos?" d'Artagnan mumbled to the musketeer trotting next to him.

"_He _can here you! And my eye is fine thank you... But my pride has been greatly wounded, by a damned squirrel." At this Porthos almost fell of his horse laughing.

All seemed well... the laughter of this band of brothers echoing throughout the forest... Until a twig snapped from somewhere and Athos; the more alert of the four of them immediately silenced, stopping his horse.

"Shhh. Listen." He glanced at Porthos who hastily suppressed his laughter.

They stopped in a long line in the valley. Everything was silent. The bird song that had charmed Aramis before was gone.

Silence.

Until four musket balls came whistling through the trees and found their targets.


	2. Chapter 2

So this is the beginning of the continuation, it is only short but I wanted to complete it quickly so that I could upload it at the same time as I started the story so it wasn't just me literally posting Charliethemusketeerian's work, enjoy :)

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Aramis cried out in pain as the musket ball wedged in his arm. D'Artagnan whipped his head round towards his brother and was about to leap off his horse to reach his friend when a blinding pain in his leg caused him to fall to the ground. He looked up at Aramis, who returned his gaze and gave him a faint smile to let him know that he was alright, although at the moment there was a lot of evidence to dispute this.

Aramis turned to check that his other comrades were okay just in time to see a third musket ball find its mark in Porthos' side. He desperately hoped it had missed his vital organs; it looked like all was well.

And then the worst happened. He saw a fourth and final musket ball whizz towards Athos' head. There was a spray of blood and Athos fell ungracefully to the ground. All that Aramis could hear was his heart pounding in his chest; the world seemed to be moving in slow motion. He heard Porthos shout something but couldn't hear, or wouldn't he supposed. The pain in his arm had numbed to a dull throb which he could easily ignore. That summed up the entire world to him right now. Just a dull, numb place that could all be ignored, all except for Athos. The way he had fallen was almost the worst thing. One moment he was sitting there, a look of deep concern on his face, the next that was all gone and he was falling, falling in both the literal and metaphorical sense. Aramis could vaguely feel himself slipping from his saddle, could hear someone calling out but none of that seemed to matter.

"Aramis!" Porthos shouted as he saw his brother slipping from his saddle. He cast a desperate glance backwards to where d'Artagnan was crouching by Athos' side. He had seen the bullet hit Athos straight in the head. There was no way he could still be alive but he knew they couldn't give up hope, not yet. Besides, for now he had to concentrate on not losing _two _brothers in one go. He caught Aramis as he began to fall to the ground and immediately sunk to his knees. He had almost forgotten about his own injury in his desperation and shock, but now he was painfully reminded. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head from the foggy feeling that was beginning to invade. He stared at d'Artagnan, he thought he saw the boy smile and wave him over but he couldn't fully concentrate, and soon his eyes began to droop closed.

d'Artagnan desperately beckoned Porthos over. Groaning as the musketeer closed his eyes. He looked around. Aramis had fainted from the shock of seeing his brother be killed and Porthos had fainted from his injuries. Athos lay unmoving on the ground, but, as he had been trying to gesture to Porthos earlier, he was still breathing. He shook his shoulders desperately but he didn't awake. d'Artagnan fought back the urge to sob from a combination of the pain in his leg and the state of his friends.

He was suddenly aware of a pressing feeling of loneliness, surrounded by his brothers.

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There we go, hope it didn't disappoint after the brilliant first chapter, please review :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, thanks for all of the lovely reviews, they really make me want to continue writing :). You should be warned that there is a bit of a strange dream in this chapter, in case anyone wants to skip it I have marked the beginning and the end with a star (*) but despite that (or hopefully including) enjoy :)

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Words were whizzing round and jostling for space in d'Artagnan's mind. Time was moving far too quickly. It seemed that with every shallow breath that Athos took, time was hurtling to the moment when there would be no more breath left. The facts began to arrange themselves more neatly, d'Artagnan made a mental list of injuries. Porthos, hit in the side, unconscious but breathing steadily, this meant it had missed all the bits he needed. He was losing blood fast. Aramis, hit in the arm, unconscious, breathing steady, the main danger from the wound was blood loss. Athos, trickier, the bullet had grazed the side of his head, he could be suffering from concussion, memory loss or any number of other things that couldn't be determined until he woke up, and that was if he did wake up. From this he arranged a list of priorities, first he needed to stitch Athos's head, and then do the same for Porthos' then Aramis' wounds. Still he felt calm, after the initial moments of panic when time seemed to be racing away from him, it now seemed to be ticking along steadily, the seconds keeping time with his breaths. As he stared at Athos laying on the blood stained grass beside him he felt a curious detachment. He dragged himself over to where Porthos and Aramis had fallen to see if either of them carried a needle and thread. He found that Aramis had and carefully threaded the needle, taking back over to Athos. He was shocked at how calm he was staying; he supposed it was the shock affecting his brain. This thought worried him, if he wasn't thinking straight then how would he help his friends? As d'Artagnan raised the needle, the walls that had been keeping the panic out came crashing down and he felt his hand shaking. He gasped and pressed his hand against the ground to steady himself. He realised that if he couldn't stitch their wounds properly, his friends would most likely die. He ran his hands through his hair in distress; he didn't know how to do this! Aramis was usually the one who dealt with injuries. His plan had been so clear just a moment ago but it had been washed away the moment he had faced the difficult task of stitching up his brothers.

"Aramis!" he called out, turning his head.

There was no response, he was alone. He took deep breaths, first he would have to clean the wound. Helpfully Athos had brought a bottle of alcohol along with him. He looked around helplessly for a moment before he remembered what he was meant to do and tore a sleeve from his shirt. He poured a little of the bottle onto the cloth and dabbed against Athos's head. There was no reaction from the unconscious man. He began to sew slowly and wasn't entirely sure how he managed to finish. He would be the first to agree that it was sloppy but hopefully Athos would just be thankful for his life. That was of course, assuming that he was going to live now. Porthos was next on the list, d'Artagnan knew that he was going to have to remove the bullet, he drew his dagger and dug out the musket ball, Porthos still remained unconscious . Then d'Artagnan repeated the same process as he had on Athos on him, still he remained unconscious. Unconscious or... But d'Artagnan wouldn't allow himself to think that. He was struggling to ignore the fact that he hadn't been able to bring himself to check their breathing as he stitched. Too frightened on what it might show. He examined Aramis' wound closely, it didn't seem to be too serious. It would, however, still require stitching.

"d'Artagnan..." came a weak voice. It took d'Artagnan a few seconds to realise that it was Aramis who spoke.

"Yes it's me, I'm here, Aramis are you alright"

"Fine" he mumbled "What happ-... Dear God... Athos..." Aramis trailed off and tears began to well in his eyes.

"Aramis, Athos is alive" he told his brother excitedly

"How? He was shot in the head." Aramis said, more to himself than d'Artagnan.

"It just grazed the side of his head"

"Is he-?"

"He's unconscious at the moment; I stitched the wound, Porthos' too."

"Well done" Aramis said, smiling approvingly.

"I was just going to stitch yours as well" d'Artagnan said, motioning towards Aramis' arm.

"I can do it myself" he insisted

"Are you sure? I don't think that's the best idea"

"I am perfectly fine, which is more than can be said for you" Aramis frowned at the wound on d'Artagnan's leg which the youngest musketeer had neglected in his desperation. Aramis held out his hand for the needle and thread which d'Artagnan reluctantly handed over. He then sat back, exhausted, expecting Aramis to begin stitching his own arm and was shocked when he felt the searing pain in his leg as Aramis half emptied the bottle over it.

"I'm sorry d'Artagnan but you need the attention more than I and I couldn't see any way that I would be able to convince you of that fact. Trickery seemed the best option. Please try to stay as still as possible"

*With a sigh d'Artagnan lay back on the grass, he found himself looking up at the sky. The clouds looked so very pretty. He was sure that one there looked exactly like Constance, she was waving at him. He grinned and waved back, walking over to her as he did. She met him with an embrace and began to kiss him passionately.

"Not here" d'Artagnan whispered harshly "Everyone is staring at us" this was indeed true, they were standing in the middle of the court room and eyes glared at them from all directions, including those belonging to Constance's husband and surprisingly d'Artagnan's own mother. The judge was scowling particularly cruelly.

"Monsieur d'Artagnan, you have been charged with the murder of Constance Bonacieux, how do you plead?"

He frowned in confusion, Constance was standing right beside him, she smiled and blew him a kiss.

"Innocent" he said, grasping Constance's hand.

"Then we call our first witness, Athos of the kings musketeers; please tell the court what you told me yesterday."

"This man is most definitely a murderer; he murdered my friends, the musketeers Porthos and Aramis." Athos said, waving to his side where Aramis and Porthos lay, a large red stain on each of their chests, their unseeing eyes gazing upwards.

"No!" d'Artagnan shouted

"We call our next witness" the judge went on, ignoring d'Artagnan frantic yells "Madame Bonacieux"

"It's alright" Constance said smiling, squeezing d'Artagnan's hand before walking away from him to stand beside the judge. As she did so d'Artagnan breathed a sigh of relief, she would tell them that he hadn't murdered her, she was there, living proof.

"I agree with the musketeer Athos" Constance said "d'Artagnan is guilty of murdering me" she said forlornly. Then as she stared at him accusingly, her skin began to fall gently off her bones to the floor like well cooked lamb.

"No!" d'Artagnan screamed again. Constance's skeleton fell to the floor with a clatter and lay beside Aramis' and Athos' corpses. Porthos stared at him coldly.

"The sentence must be death!" he shouted and soon a chant grew up around d'Artagnan.

"Death! Death! Death! Death!"

He could feel hands pushing him roughly forward towards a wall where he was shackled. He could see Aramis standing at the other end of the small open air courtyard with a musket in his hand.

"Sorry, old friend, but murder cannot go unpunished" He said and pulled the trigger. The bullet began to swim sluggishly in d'Artagnan's direction, making gently loops in the air as it did, drawing d'Artagnan's attention to the sky which was burning blood red, the clouds were pictures of his friends faces, each with a bullet hole between their empty eyes. The cloud that was Aramis grinned down at him.

"d'Artagnan!" it called "Can you hear me?"

The bullet had reached the end of its meandering path and lodged itself in d'Artagnan's leg. He screamed.*

"d'Artagnan it alright, I'm here, calm down" Aramis said, attempting to hold his friend still.

"I'm fine" d'Artagnan assured.

"Nightmare?"

d'Artagnan swallowed and nodded.

"How long have I been asleep?" He asked

"Only about two hours."

"How are Athos and Porthos?"

"Athos still hasn't woken" Aramis said and the worry in his voice was clear "Porthos woke about an hour ago, he's fine I think but he needed more rest. I bandaged all your wounds, and my own before you ask."

d'Artagnan swallowed again, still shaken from his nightmare.

"I think what we should be worrying about now is where our would be assassins have disappeared to"

d'Artagnan personally thought that it didn't matter where they were as long as they weren't here now.

"They had no reason to just leave, unless they believed we were all dead."

"We almost were" d'Artagnan said, smiling.

Aramis cast an almost imperceptible glance at Athos "Almost" he reinforced. And allowed himself to believe that they had got through the worst, that now it was just a matter of waiting until Athos woke up and they were all well enough to return to Paris. But things were never that simple, not when his brothers were involved.

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There we go, bit longer than the last chapter, but I suppose quite a bit of it is made of weird dream...

Well anyway, hope you enjoyed, please review, reviews are even better than unicorn cats called Gerold who only eat marshmallows and live in pillow cases :)


	4. Chapter 4

Here we go, next chapter up, I think this story is probably gonna end up being about 10 chapters, maybe longer. Anyway, enjoy :)

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It was d'Artagnan's turn to take watch first. Athos hadn't woken at all; it had now been too many hours to keep count of. Porthos had woken again, more fully than the last, but he was now sleeping next to Aramis under makeshift blankets (their cloaks). They had placed a rolled up jacket under Athos' head and covered him with a cloak to keep him as comfortable as possible. He didn't see how it would make any difference, Athos was dying. It was the first time he'd thought those words. He'd known, of course, for a long time that this was the truth but he hadn't thought it so frankly before. Athos needed a skilled physician, their self taught, homemade efforts would keep him alive for a while but that was all. There was a rustling from the trees, d'Artagnan tensed for a moment, peering into the gloom but relaxed when he saw a squirrel clamber up into the canopy. D'Artagnan was reminded of how carefree they had been not so long ago. The happy laughter which d'Artagnan now thought may have been what drew the attackers to them. It was funny though, how the mind plays tricks when one is scared and tired. He could have sworn that before the squirrel scuttled into view the moon glinted of something metal concealed behind a tree trunk.

"d'Artagnan!" Aramis called out. D'Artagnan turned his head to see Aramis propped up on his elbows on the grass a little way away.

"I'll take watch now, you get some sleep"

D'Artagnan was grateful; he was exhausted after the day's events. He laid his head down on the grass and closed his eyes. He was still lying there awake after thirty minutes. D'Artagnan had heard of people falling asleep as soon as their head hit the pillow although he had never been that fortunate, but so far he had never heard of people waking up as soon as their head hit the pillow. This is what was happening to him now. Before he had closed his eyes he had been looking forward to sleep but as soon as they were closed it seemed like the absence of visual stimulation had made way for the anxieties and fears for himself and his friends. He knew he was never going to get to sleep, not now. Not when Athos was lying motionless so closely. When the threat of their unknown attackers still loomed above their heads. Until now he had remained in his recumbent position almost in defiance of his own mind. He gave in and sat up slowly, opening his eyes to gaze at the deep blue-blackness of the night. No stars twinkled down on them, clouds obscured them. The only light was the crescent moon, which illuminated what d'Artagnan now recognised as the sleeping form of Aramis. He sighed, now thankful that he hadn't slept. His throat ached, alerting him to the fact that none of them had drunk any water since the attack. He knew they had passed a stream on their way; it couldn't be too far back. They could go and collect some in the morning. However, it surely wouldn't hurt to nip back and get a drink for himself now, the others were all fast asleep, they would be alright and no-one was going to attack them in the few minutes it took d'Artagnan to get a drink. He stood up shakily, still tired but he already knew sleep was impossible. He cast one quick glance around before leaving, all was still.

D'Artagnan reached the stream quickly and cupped the cool trickling water in his hands. He took several gulps of the water before realising something was wrong. He looked up slowly until his gaze met a pair of boots, unsurprisingly attached to the rest of the man's body. d'Artagnan didn't know how long the man had been standing there. It made him uncomfortable to think about it.

"Your friend is dying" the man said

It wasn't a question but d'Artagnan answered anyway, unsure of what else he could do.

"Yes"

"Rather a good shot, don't you think? It is so difficult to just clip the side of a man's head without his brain being splattered across the scenery. But of course, I've had practice."

"It was you who attacked us?"

"No, I was just remarking on the unrelated facts of how good a shot the attacker must have been and how I have practiced shooting before" he said sarcastically "of course it was me! Along with my friends. "

D'Artagnan remained where he was crouched by the river. There had been no sign of the attackers since they had attacked, had they been here the whole time.

"You see, we're worried about your friend, we really are" the man continued "We just want him to be alright, because, you see, we're lovely people really. We have a doctor, we can help him."

"Why would you want to do that, what do you want in return?"

"My good sir! What accusations are these? Are you saying that we would only help your dear friend if you gave us some sort of payment perhaps in the form of information about the musketeers and the guards on the palace? Surely not!"

D'Artagnan didn't say anything, he had the feeling that the man hadn't quite finished yet. After a short pause he continued.

"Of course, if you absolutely insist, I wouldn't say no to entertaining one of you little mates back there as my honoured guest for a little while. I'd return him, good as new, obviously. Perhaps with some minor flesh wounds, but what's that between friends, eh? "

D'Artagnan took a moment to work out what the man was proposing.

"So you're saying, you'll help Athos, if one of us goes with you to be inevitably tortured for information about the musketeers? I think we're fine on our own, thanks."

"Well if you don't want our help" the man sniffed as if deeply offended "I'm sure your little friend will be just fine on his own, doesn't need a proper doctor, no, he's too good for Xavier's proper doctor, he'll just manage with his incompetent musketeer mates, I mean, he might pull through but I doubt he'd survive **another **bullet in his head, right through his brain this time, he'd be dead as a door knob, mark my words, and these accidents do happen, more often than you think."

This was definitely not good.

"What's to stop me just killing you now?" D'Artagnan questioned raising his pistol to aim at the man's head. At the same moment he felt cold metal pressed against his throat.

"That is, my dear friend. And there are more of us, four shots, remember? My other mates are down by your little camp. So, is it a yes or a no?"

"Will you kill whoever goes with you?"

"Now why would I do that? There wouldn't be much point in one of you dying, to stop one of you dying, would there?"

"What if they refuse to give you the information?"

"Then our little agreement won't have been honoured and you might find our darling doctor's work undone pretty quickly"

D'Artagnan scowled.

"Yes"

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Okay, who else is thinking that the attackers might ever so slightly crazy? I honestly wasn't going to write his character like that when I started but then he kinda began rambling and I couldn't stop. Thanks for reading, please review :) (or Gerold will die!) (lol only joking) (or am I?!) (seriously, am I?) (okay, you better review anyway cause Gerold is looking a bit peaky)


	5. Chapter 5

Next chapter, finally, sorry it took so long :( The next chapter of The True Cost should be up soon now :D

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The man had left straight after d'Artagnan agreed to the deal, leaving him unsure as to whether it was still on. He wandered back to their makeshift camp, doubtful that the mysterious attackers would honour the agreement but nevertheless hopeful that Athos could be saved. He really was exhausted now and he had been ignoring an increasing pain in his leg for far too long. He had barely reached the other slumbering musketeers before he half lay half fell onto the floor and slipped into the welcome embrace of sleep.

When Aramis awoke it was to the unpleasant sight of an unfamiliar person standing above him. Almost without thinking he was up and had his pistol aimed at the figure's head in an instant.

"You have ten seconds before you're dead, make them count" he threatened. Then the person turned and he was shocked to see that they were a woman, it almost, but not quite, made him lower his pistol.

"Please don't shoot! I have been sent here to help your friend, I am the doctor!" Aramis half lowered his pistol, (though it was now aimed at the woman's heart which was not much better in her opinion) surprised and not a little confused.

"**The **doctor?" he questioned.

"Yes, Xavier sent me, he said your friend was injured, I just want to help, please." She stared at him imploringly, her eyes flickering between his face at the loaded pistol which was still aimed at her chest. Aramis placed his pistol back into his belt.

"How did he know?"

"Sorry?"

"Your friend, Xavier was it? How did he know about Athos?"

"He said one you came and asked for help"

"No, I'm sure we didn't, we didn't even know anyone else was near"

"Please, does it matter? I really think your friend needs my help, could you just step aside, I just want to take a look at him." The second part of this was spoken with the calm tone usually used to address a small child if their pet is 'poorly', the speaker knows that there nothing more that can be done for the stricken creature but is scared that any sudden noises may break the subtle spell of hope that envelopes its young owner, knowing that when it does break not only will a tantrum of the highest standards ensue, but a small part of their innocence will be lost forever. This was not lost on Aramis, who peered anxiously at Athos, hoping his condition hadn't deteriorated since the night before.

"Please, Monsieur...?"

"Call me Aramis"

"Monsieur Aramis, I need to help...?"

"Athos"

"I need to help Athos, I believe that there is still hope, though it may be wise to send word back to his home in...?"

"Paris, in the musketeers Garrison"

"His condition is too bad to move him." This seemed to conclude the verbal gap fill, the doctor smiled and nodded, and moved past Aramis to kneel by the sleeping Athos. Aramis knew that when she said to get word back to Paris she intended him to be the one to leave but he couldn't. He couldn't leave Athos now; he would wait until Athos had at least woken up before leaving. Treville would know by now that something had happened, they should have returned the day before.

"Shit!" the doctor cried

"What's happened? What's going on?" Aramis rushed other to Athos' side, the musketeer lay as still and silent as he had for the past days. No, stiller. There was no longer the reassuring rise and fall of his breaths, which had until recently been he only signs that Athos was still alive.

Aramis felt all the blood rush from his face, he suddenly felt incredibly cold. He was surprised that he also felt rather detached from the situation, like he was an uninvolved observer. He just tried to think of the facts; Athos could not be dead, so this could not be real, it stood to reason. That must mean he was dreaming, yes, he'd been worried about Athos so it was only natural that he should have the occasional nightmare. It would also explain the sudden appearance of the self proclaimed doctor who had been so desperate to help and had nevertheless killed Athos. But it was okay because he wasn't dead, he couldn't be so this couldn't be real. It was fine. You just had to think about things logically, think of the facts; Athos was not dead so this wasn't real. This couldn't be real, because Athos couldn't be dead, Athos wasn't dead, it was all a dream. Aramis was only vaguely aware that his thoughts were becoming manically repetitive.

"Aramis, Monsieur Aramis!" the doctor's desperate yells finally broke through to his thoughts.

Aramis stared into her face, looking imploringly up at him. Long chestnut hair blew in the gentle breeze and she was squinting against the sun.

Aramis didn't move.

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Gerold is dead!

is what you would be hearing if you hadn't left a review for the last chapter! :D So thank you, the more review juice I consume, the faster I can type :)


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for leaving you on such a cliffhanger last chapter, I thought it was mean so I've uploaded the next chapter sooner than usual :) The medical knowledge in this chapter is probably awful, I did a bit of research but decided in the end to go with artistic licence, enjoy :)

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"Monsieur Aramis!"

Antoinette (for that was the doctor's name) looked desperately at Athos, his breathing had slowed dangerously and just when she needed his trigger happy friend he seemed to be ignoring her completely.

"Monsieur Aramis, your friend is dying, I need your help!"

Dying. Not dead, dying. Marginally better.

"What do I need to do?"

"I wasn't prepared for this, Xavier told me nothing... I have brought my bag, is it enough? It could be I suppose, but no, this is really not the right time to be taking chances... I suppose we have no other option"

Aramis frowned but waited patiently for her to conclude her monologue. Never had he been happier to hear that one of his friends was dying. It was a strange thought when it came like that, but dying meant that there was still life left to cling onto. A small part of him tried to interject and point out that he may not be entirely in his right mind, that perhaps he ought to go and have a little lie down but it was like the steering wheel of his brain had been grabbed by adrenaline, the cruel voice of fear muttering scathing remarks from the passenger seat.

"Monsieur, I believe I know what to do. While commendable that someone had the presence of mind to stay calm and stitch the wound it may not have been the wisest choice in the situation. I brought basic medical supplies, needles and alcohol and so forth, but I left much of my equipment behind. I honestly didn't think for a moment that it would be necessary. I must return and fetch it now, please, you must watch him. Keep him on his side so he doesn't choke on his own tongue. If anything at all happens just shout loudly, I won't be far."

Aramis failed to see how any of this mattered, why she was telling him. She was here to save Athos so that is what she should do. She was babbling on, chastising their own methods, taking up valuable time. Stop talking and help him!

Aramis nodded meekly.

"He'll be fine, alright?"

Fear highly doubted this; it knew that Athos was dying, already dead. That he would die there in front of Aramis' eyes and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. Adrenaline kept its eyes on the road, ignoring the graphic predictions of Athos' death, still hoping. Rational thought took a nap in the back seat.

Aramis nodded again, not trusting himself to do much else and stay in one piece.

"I'll be back before you know I'm gone"

But she wasn't. The sudden absence of her surprisingly reassuring presence shocked Aramis. It was hours before she was back, long drawn out hours of watching Athos' chest rise and fall. Each time comforting Aramis and terrifying him that it was for the last time. Finally, after a lifetime, she returned.

"See? Told you, I was only gone a minute. Okay, you may want to leave."

Aramis shook his head determinedly.

"Have you lost the ability to speak? Come on, I feel like I'm talking to myself here."

"I'm fine; I want to stay with him."

"Okay, if you're sure"

Even in his current state, Aramis was aware that something was wrong... wrong**er**.

"Porthos! d'Artagnan!"

"Mumblemumblemumblemumble, mumble **away** 'rmis"

"What?!"

Aramis waited until they had regained what was left of their senses and remembered where they were. It wasn't the cheeriest realisation. It Porthos who reached it first.

"Where's Athos?" a pause "Who on earth is she?!"

"She's a doctor, she's here to help, don't ask me why." Aramis explained

"How's Athos, is he okay?" d'Artagnan said

"I think he's fine at the moment, he needs-"

"-Okay, this will take far too long to explain, we really don't have the time so if you'd like to have a nice little chat I'll get on with it, okay?" Antoinette scowled, she needed to concentrate and this idiot was organising a tea party. She hadn't had the heart earlier to say that 'you may want to leave' was a polite version 'get the hell out of here now you gun wielding maniac or I'll literally eat your face".

Well, the face eating may be going a tad too far but right now she just didn't have time for crazy, inconsiderate and just downright stupid musketeers. She was here to do a job, no-one said she had to be nice, and until now she had really been trying.

"You know, I don't have to do this. I don't know this man, he could die for all I care but I am a doctor and helping people is what I do. If it wasn't for Xavier and me your friend would have taken his last breath by now!"

The trio was momentarily stunned into silence.

"Now go away!"

They left, wondering only briefly why they did.

Antoinette frowned in concentration as she methodically undid the stitches that d'Artagnan had so carefully sewn. The wound beneath them had partially healed already, making her feel even more like she was just hurting him when she drew her knife along the wound. Blood began to trickle out slowly but it wasn't too bad, she had already given him a herb to control the bleeding. Then came the part she had been dreading. Carefully, with a slightly shaking hand she lifted her tweezers to extract the first piece of fractured skull from the man's head.

She couldn't help feeling that this would make an interesting game, of course not on a real patient. There'd have to be some sort of signal for when you got it wrong. She dismissed the rather silly thought almost as soon as it came.

"Is he okay?"

"Where is he?"

"What's wrong, is he dead?"

"Please, just listen-"

A renewed wave of frantic, shouted questions drowned out Antoinette's voice.

Athos opened his eyes.

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So, Athos isn't dead :) That was just Aramis being over paranoid.

"This mortal form has grown weak. I need sustenance!"* In the form of reviews :D

*Thor


	7. Chapter 7

New chapter! Hooray! :) Three cheers for me (hey, that means you too!)

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Athos' Memories

There was no time to register what had happened. Athos saw the bullet whiz through the air to hit Porthos. And then there was nothing.

The world seemed to be in black and white, the complex rainbow drained and compressed into one colour. The colour of blood.

The darkness conquered.

There was pain, nothing else.

For what seemed like days.

Everything was silent.

Occasionally the silence was interrupted by a slow thump like of a heartbeat. A dying heart beating in slow motion. His.

Then a pinpoint of light, shining. Not in front of his eyes, they remained closed and motionless, but in his head. It grew until it was everything and slowly the faces of his friends swan into view, calling out his name.

They told him what he wanted to hear.

He could sleep.

He didn't have to hold on any longer.

It was alright.

He could sleep.

He could just let go.

He had been holding on for so long, too long.

All the doors had closed, it was okay.

There was no other way now.

Then suddenly there was.

The doors had been flung open.

The eternal sleep no longer called so strongly.

Beyond that door his brothers waited.

He would go to them.

He opened his eyes.

D'Artagnan was the only one who saw but they all fell silent at once. They could sense the shift in the atmosphere. Athos' eyes fluttered closed almost as soon as they had opened and remained so for several minutes. No-one dared move, barely even dared to breathe. They opened again; he blinked a few times, squinting against the sudden flood of sunlight.

"Athos?" It was d'Artagnan who was first to speak.

"D'Artagnan? Where's Porthos, is he alright?"

No-one spoke. D'Artagnan could tell that they were all thinking the same thing. Athos' first words after waking up were asking after Porthos. Did he know how close he had come to death? How terrified they had all been?

"I'm fine Athos, we were all far more worried about you" D'Artagnan could tell that Porthos had to struggle to keep his voice even.

Athos sighed and his eyes closed again, they all cast worried glances at the doctor.

"He will be fine now, he just needs rest."

"More rest? He's been asleep for days!" D'Artagnan exclaimed.

"A coma isn't exactly the same as sleep.

"He really will be alright now d'Artagnan, we need to let him sleep."

"The injury itself was not overly severe, the is a good hope that it will not result in brain damage, although of course there is always that chance. I believe that he went into shock. Of course, you should wake him every few hours and he should have someone watching him. I have to return now, Xavier will be waiting."

"He really will be alright?" D'Artagnan questioned

He knew he would have to leave. He couldn't leave whilst Athos was still asleep. He didn't want him to wake up and find d'Artagnan gone.

"He'll be **fine **d'Artagnan" Aramis assured him.

D'Artagnan remained silent. He would have to leave tonight. He couldn't risk Xavier carrying out his threat.

"Monsieur d'Artagnan? You are the one who spoke to Xavier, yes? He enquired after you, he said he would be honoured to have you round for dinner tonight" She smiled at him warmly

"Yes, that would be... that would be great... looking forward to it"

Aramis frowned at him slightly but said nothing.

For a reason that she couldn't quite put her finger on, Antoinette felt like she was doing something terribly wrong. What was bad about asking her brother's old friend round? Nothing, surely, the boy had said he would like to. But if that was true, why did he look so scared?

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The first person to review is my best friend! (which is a great honour, I assure you) :D


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